


River of Jet

by Colbatros



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colbatros/pseuds/Colbatros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It all felt extremely cliché when the vehicle drove in the puddle right in front of him, splashing him with brown and muddy water. As expected, he thought as he stood there, spreading his dripping wet arms at his sides."</p>
<p>After an unfortunate accident, Komaeda helps Izuru tame the wild mess he calls his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	River of Jet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella/gifts), [Snaily](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Snaily).



The strands of raven hair slid between his fingers. They glistened under the light of the sun that filtered through the translucent white curtains which floated in front of the open windows. The room was quiet, aside from the regular sound of the brush trying to tame the wild mess of ebony hair Komaeda held in his hands. His tongue sticking out of his mouth, he concentrated only on his task, working his way through the other boy’s hair, detangling layer by layer the dark damp tendrils. In front of him, with a stern expression, his gaze lost in the distance, sat Izuru, completely still, except from the slight bobbing of his head whenever the white-haired boy would tug on his black mane.

“You sure have a lot of hair, Izuru-kun! I can’t even begin to imagine how much of a pain it must be to wash every morning”, Komaeda noted in a teasing, but cheery voice, as he held a couple of strands in his hand and lift it up in his face. The other boy simply mumbled a plain “Hmm”, giving the remark little to no attention. He detached his eyes from the beige wall to look at his dirtied white shirt thrown on the floor. He reached his fingers over to the stained fabric and swept off the mud left on the immaculate fabric.

Earlier that day, the two had been hanging out outside, enjoying a nice cup of coffee while walking home after school. As usual, Komaeda led the conversation, giving Izuru no room to place a single word, exaggerating every facial expression and movement, threatening to spill the hot liquid all over him. It was a nice day of autumn; a soft breeze made the golden leaves covering the sidewalk lift off and swirl in the wind. It wasn’t exactly cold outside, chilly certainly, but not the kind of temperature that would force you to entirely cover yourself. Well, of course, Komaeda absolutely had to wear his long brown coat with his plaid scarf floating in the wind, which Izuru often liked to play with whenever he knew the other’s grey eyes weren’t pointed at him. He watched through the windows of the many shops and restaurants they passed in front of, looking at the signs with their names written on it. Izuru found himself enjoying looking at every detail, at the colourful letters neatly painted on the walls, at the flickering lights glowing through doors, at the worn stickers on the glass. He trailed his fingers over the cold bricks, still trying to pay attention to whatever Komaeda was blabbering about.

They soon reached a busy intersection, with cars passing them by at an arm’s distance. The white-haired boy’s voice almost died under the sound of the honking and the engines roaring, the buzzing echoing in the streets. Izuru felt Komaeda’s hand leave his grasp, and immediately turned his head to look at him. With a lazy smile, he shook his empty cup in his face, and spun around to throw it in the nearby trashcan. As soon as he left his side, the wheels of a big white truck screeched on the pavement and turned right in front of the dark-haired one. It all felt extremely cliché when the vehicle drove in the puddle right in front of him, splashing him with brown and muddy water. _As expected_ , he thought as he stood there, spreading his dripping wet arms at his sides. Komaeda came back running to him, clinging to his hand, mentioning something about his ‘bad luck rubbing off on him’. He threw his coat over the other’s broad shoulders, and hurried him back home.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything”, Komaeda reassured as he led Izuru in the bathroom. He came back with clean clothes from his wardrobe, apologizing in advance if they didn’t fit or weren’t up to his fashion standards. The hot water soon flowed in the porcelain bath as the white-haired boy himself unbuttoned the sullied garment. Izuru didn’t really mind being stripped naked and bare in front of Komaeda; those were things only simple-minded people bothered with. He stepped in the almost boiling water and let the other take care of him, his expression not giving away how excited he was to get cleaned by Komaeda. He closed his eyes as the other gently washed his hair with apple scented shampoo. Part of him even wished he would use the green bath puff on him, but surely that would be pushing his luck. Once he was squeaky clean, Izuru let his body be wound in a soft white towel and be dried. A couple of minutes of blow-drying later, and they both moved to the living room, with Komaeda bringing with him every brush and hair product he could find in his cabinet.

“So, bunches or braids?” The question snapped him out of his trance. He quickly turned his head to face the other’s, his movement restricted by Komaeda’s firm grasp on his hair. He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose – a bad habit he had whenever he pondered on something. “Whatever you want”, he grumbled in the low and pure voice of his.

“Braids it is”, the white-haired boy decided, first separating the black hair into two, then taking three different sections in his hands. He worked his fingers through the strands, being ever so careful as to not tug too hard and incommode Izuru. When he finished with the first braid, he picked a ribbon of the deepest red in a bag and finally tied it up. As he began splitting the other part in three, the other delicately picked up the heavy braid with his hand, inspecting it under every angle.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” he inquired, in a tone that almost wanted itself to sound interested. He could hear the smile in Komaeda’s answer: “When I was about 7, I think, I made friends with this girl who was in my class. She was absolutely fascinated with my hair, and kept telling me how it reminded her of a ‘yummy, yummy cloud of white cotton candy’.  I kept getting it tangled, so she showed me how to tame it; she taught me how to tie it in a ponytail, how to braid it, etc. Heh, back then it seemed so useless, but now I guess I’m thankful for it. Ah, see, I’m all done now!”

Komaeda completed the knot with the ribbon, and put his masterpiece down. Izuru stood up, swinging his hair from side to side, enjoying the way it brushed against him whenever he would turn his head. The corners of his lips slightly turned up, a detail which the other made sure not to miss. Komaeda threw his arms around Izuru’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asked, his voice muffled against the warm skin.

There was a pause, before the boy with the raven haired responded, in a low voice: “Yeah, sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be below 500 words what is this  
> Oh well enjoy this fluffy Kamukoma fic anyway


End file.
